And people say eminem is hard - Julian was singing about drugs long before. This one is truly magnificent: "Then I heard my mother cry/ 'I'm out of my mind on dope and speed!'/ No no, let me tell you not no word of a lie..." Julian sings in a Scott Walker style. He also cheerily gives instructions to his musicians as he goes along: "This time, stay on A!". It's really good. For whatever reason, the album this was on was suppressed, but he stuck it out on the greatest hits (Floored Genius) anyway.
from Skellington (unreleased) available on CD - Floored Genius (Sony)
A lovely little pop song, Jellypop perky Jean uses a standard Julian Cope trick - having a nice little repetitive musical phrase running in the background throughout the whole song. He then builds things up with a simple organ sound. The effect is very gentle and ambient and wonderful. At one point late in the song, Julian stunningly stops singing and starts talking. Here the real genius cuts through, and I start wondering why more people don't rant on about this guy as much as I do.
from Droolian available on CD - Floored Genius (Sony)
A key track from Julian Cope's fragmentary second solo album, 1984's Fried, "Bill Drummond Said" is the only song on the album that resembles the swirling psych-pop of his old band the Teardrop Explodes. This is no doubt intentional, as the lyrics take aim at the group's former manager, Bill Drummond (later half of the Timelords, the KLF, and the JAMS), albeit in a typically vague way. The lyrics are skeletal enough that several interpretations might be brought to them, but they seem to recount a dream in which Cope witnesses his former manager in the act of strangling an unidentified woman to death. In contrast to the vaguely unpleasant lyrics, this is by far the catchiest and sweetest tune on Fried, with a dreamy folk-rock sound to its ringing 12-string guitar riffs and breathy harmonies. Coming between more disjointed and edgy tracks like the bizarre fairy tale "Reynard the Fox" and the Syd Barrett-like ramble "Laughing Boy," "Bill Drummond Said" sounds downright bubblegummy. Unsurprisingly, the always combative Drummond got in the last word with his answer song, "Julian Cope Is Dead," a sarcastically folky acoustic tune from his odd 1986 solo album The Man in which Drummond claims that in the waning days of the Teardrop Explodes, he had suggested that Cope commit suicide to make the band famous and laments that the singer didn't take him up on it.